Ashamed
by MrsWrathful
Summary: When your life is ruled by insecurity, it's hard. Painful. Impossible. If it's not other students, it's the judgmental stares of strangers, my own mother, or worse, my own abusive thoughts. It's starting to feel as though there's no light at the end of the tunnel, or as though there's no end at all. Rated M for language, violence, and sexual themes. Canon Pairing.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey!" I heard, as I was stopped at my locker. Of course, I reconized the voice. I didn't turn around, hoping he was talking to someone else. It was the middle of second class, and the halls were empty; I just forgot my textbook. I knew this, yet I still stared into my locker, wishing someone would interrupt, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. I heard him get closer, and when I realized someone was with him, I felt my stomach drop.

"Did you fucking hear me? Butterball!" Mike yelled, accompanied by two people laughing. I turned to look, and sure enough, Mike Newton was stalking towards me, Tyler Crowley and James Holcheck in tow. I grimaced at their goofy yet sinister smiles.

"Does anyone else find it funny he answers to 'Butterball'?" Mike laughed, earning nods from his little sheep. I took a deep breath, and closed my locker, before turning away from them. I managed to take two steps, before I heard Mike again, this time angrier.

"I'm pretty fucking sure I'm talking to you." I instantly froze at the malice in his voice, but still didn't turn around. "Mike, I-I'm going b-b-back to c-class okay? T-that's all." I managed to stammer out, embarassment flooding through me thanks to my unfortunate stutter. I turned slightly, just in time to see James' trademark twisted smirk appear on his face. "Nah... We wanna talk."

The three of them stopped about six feet in front of me, Mike in the center and a few inches in front of James and Tyler, like the leader of a wolf pack. I grit my teeth, trying to not show fear. I knew damn well they didn't want to _just talk._ This has been ongoing for years -twelve years, to be exact- nothing was going to change over night. I turned completely towards them, not wanting to anger them more. What I ever did to them, I don't know.

"W-what would you like to t-talk about?" I asked politely, well aware of my shaky voice. I was shifting my weight from foot to foot when Tyler grinned. Of course, they noticed me doing it. "Are you seriously to fat to stand?" Tyler quipped. I didn't say anything. I dropped my gaze to the floor, once again feeling heat come up to my face and neck. Mike and James laughed, but then Mike gave Tyler a look to shut him up. As much as he loves having backup, he always wants to be in the spotlight.

"So, Butterball. I, uh, drove past your place last night. Around, ah, I dunno... seven maybe? Lights were off. Kinda early to go to bed, ain't it?" Mike tilted his head at me. I could feel the blood reach my ears, causing that prickly feeling. By now, my glasses were fogged up from my laboured breathing. I knew _exactly_ where this was going. "Maybe," Mike continued, "Just maybe, your trailor trash drunk of a mom didn't pay the bills again." Anger burned inside me at that comment, and Mike knew it. They can say anything about me, I'm used to it. But leave my mother out of it. However, I'd be lying if I said I didn't also feel embarassed. He was right. They bills had gone unpaid. It wasn't even close to being the first time. And unfortunately, in small towns like Forks, people notice things. And talk is cheap. Most people wouldn't say it to me, not even other bullies. It was a low blow. But Mike? He _thrived_ off of it. James and Tyler sure didn't care either. They got more of a reaction -which they wanted- when they spoke ill of my mother. She didn't deserve that. Regardless of what she's done, to me, herself, or in general, she was still my mom.

I couldn't be too surprised Mike said that, of course it would upset me. It would upset anyone. Even though I had a part time job (emphasis on 'part time'), there was no way I could help with the bills. Mom wouldn't let me. I didn't know any of her account details, and it's not like I could slip money into her wallet. She'd notice. She'd know that's not her money because she knows where her money goes. She's just in denial, I think. I get it- she wants to feel like she can do it on her own, without a man. Ever since my father left, she acts like she has something to prove. But I just wish I could tell her I'd be happy to help. That I'm embarassed. That being poor is fuel for Mike and them.

That alcohol won't solve her problems.

"Well?" Mike snapped, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Well n-nothing," I retorted, crossing my arms. "I-I was out." My blush gave me away, and we both knew it. Mike nodded, in a sarcastic way, while James took a step closer. He asked me where I was, and I said work. James smirked and said, "So... You, the child, were at work, while mama, the adult, went barhopping? Or maybe she went gambling, you know, to spice things up. Sloppy fuckin' drunk."

Oh boy. "Don't talk about my mom. She was at work too, actually." Another lie.

"Dude... and I'm not even trying to be rude, for once, but how can you be poor _and_ fat?" Tyler asked, sounding serious. The other two goblins laughed, while Mike shot back, "Probably ate their way into poverty. Ever see his mom? Land whale!"

"Sh-shut the f-fuck up!" And that, is _exactly_ what I shouldn't have said.

The three boys looked at each other and grinned. After scanning the hall, for, presumably teachers, all three lunged over and grabbed me, before pulling. My attempt to fight back did not work. I was big, yes. But they were strong. How the fuck did no teachers hear us? I was calling out, my voice muffled from Mike's arm on my throat. Teachers need to keep their doors open, or something. After accepting that no one could hear me- or nobody cared, I stopped calling out and focused on getting away. It wasn't working, but then they stopped. Tyler let go of me. I froze, thinking they had given up for once. Looking up at Tyler, my eyes widened. I had been wrong. So wrong. We were in front of a small custodian's closet, and Tyler only let go of me so he could open the door. Once opened, he grabbed a hold of me again, obnoxiously waggling his bushy eyebrows. Mike grabbed me by the front of my sweaty shirt and looked me dead in the eye. "Don't you _ever_ tell me to shut up. Don't you ever disrespect us again." He let go of my shirt, and plucked my glasses off my face. I squinted and winced from the sudden change. I heard a snap and horror flood through me. I instantly thought of how much those cost., how I'll afford a new pair, if I have my old spare ones...

"My glasses..." I whispered, tears threatening to fall. "Sure man, you want 'em?" Mike asked sweetly before slamming my mangled frames on my outstretched hand, effectively piercing through my palm with the glass. Before I could even let out a peep, or react for that matter, they shouted "Three!" and I felt myself strumbling into the closet, hitting the back wall. I knocked over bottles and a mop, and my mouth went dry when I heard laughter. All I could hear were hoots and hollers. I closed my eyes in pain, from my hand, and humiliation. Of course, my body had to disobey me and let out an _almost_ silent sob.

"Hey," Mike whispered. "Shut the fuck up, fatass." And with that, he closed the door. Seeing this as my shot to leave, I instinctively dropped my broken glasses, and let out a howl of pain when the glass tore a little more flesh. More tears came as I tried to feel around with my good hand. I was hoping to find the light, or even better, the door. Before I could find either, I heard the unmistakable sound of something being jammed into the handle echo in my tiny space. I froze and silently accepted my situation. They won. I wanted to cry, but I tried to be quiet. I knew they were still there, I could hear their muffled voices. I strained my ears, trying to listen.

 _"...did you see his face?"_

 _"...he cried, again!"_

 _"...surprised he can still fit in there..."_

"... _the fuck does he think he is?!"_

 _"...not our fault he's a loser."_

I took a deep, shaky breath and clenched my fists, wanting to scream in frustration and pain. I didn't think the cuts were very deep, but I could feel the glass in me, which was disturbing. I could feel the blood drip from my palm, and down my fingers, onto the floor. _If I had my glasses I could inspect and wrap it._

I backed up to the wall opposite of the door, and sank to the floor. At this point, I was a blubbering mess. Tears were pouring freely, my whole body shaking. I couldn't control my cries of anguish. I put my hands over my ears when I leard loud laughter from just beyond the door, but it didn't help. I know they heard me.

 _What did I do? Why am I being... punished? By the world, by God? Can't I catch a break? I didn't hurt anyone, I never did anything bad... I'm sorry if I was bad. Please! Why can't I just be left alone? I'm sorry. For whatever I did... I must have been some bad in a past life to deserve this._

I put my head between my legs, trying to clear my thoughts, trying to figure out what to do, how I felt.

Ashamed. I felt ashamed to be alive.


	2. Chapter 2

Forks was always raining, it seemed. The air always had a cold chill, the sky overcast. It had a certain charm about it, though. Maybe I'm biased, as I was born and raised here. The colors here are beautiful. The lush green forrests and plants, the vibrant flowers, the lucky hint of a rainbow. Mostly everything was green or brown, but when you mixed in the odd violet or daisy, it all comes together.

I was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping my hot instant coffee, admiring the buttercups in the backyard. It was around ten o'clock on a Saturday morning, the best day of the week. And Sunday, of course. No school, no people, just me. I never had exciting plans but that's okay. The day was mine. Plus, it seemed to be a nice day, the rain was so far holding off. Here, in my tiny kitchen, I was okay. Coffee, good view, alone time... I even cracked a little smile.

When my coffee was gone, I rinsed my mug in the sink and thought of what to have for breakfast. My mom bartends at a pub, tucked away in a smaller area of Forks, and didn't get home until after I went to bed, which was after one in the morning. So I'm assuming she'll be sleeping in, otherwise i would have gotten hers too.

After scanning the kitchen and realizing there wasn't much food, i settled on a big bowl of off brand Froot Loops. Honestly, these were better than the original. Sweeter. This morning, I ate while doing the crossword in the morning paper. I'm very determined so i didnt even think about getting up until I was done. Crosswords can be tricky; by the end of it, the paper was worn thin, almost ripped from my pencil eraser going over it so many times. Thankfully, I did it, otherwise it would have bothered me all day.

It was noon when I heard my mom get out of bed. At that point, I was just in my room, trying to find something to do. When I heard her move into the kitchen, I sat on the edge of my bed, running my hands through my messy hair. My hair was always messy, it seemed. I just made it worse when I did that, a stupid nervous tick. I sighed softly, torn between what to do. I wanted to talk to her, ask her about work, her sleep... but it was hit or miss when she came home from work. _And anytime, really_. She could be happy, telling me stories of customers or she could be a hungover, angry stranger. It scared me. I wanted to see her, of course I did. I guess in a way, I felt neglected. She's so unpredictable, but it's rare to see her happy anymore. She just shuts me out. The person she becomes when she drinks isn't someone I want to call mom. I would assume she's going to be in a mood, since she's most likely hungover. It doesn't help that she works again tonight; you can bet she drinks on the job.

I took a deep breath, before standing up, feeling my shaky legs try to betray me. I'm always so nervous to see what she'll be like each time I see her. I opened my door and made my way down the tiny, dimly lit hall. She was in the kitchen, as I thought. She was standing by our old microwave, waiting for her chipped mug to be done so she could make a coffee. She still didn't see me, and she was turned around so i took this opportunity to watch her for a moment; her pale arm reaching in the cupboard to get the jar of instant coffee, her dry messy hair pulled into a loose pont tain down her back, the way her weak hand stirred the coffee slowly.

 _She's a shell of a person._

It was sad. You could tell, just by looking at her, that she wasn't feeling good. That she wasn't herself. I walked into the kitchen, making my presence known. She still didn't turn around. Instead, she walked right in front of me, and sat down at our small table.

"Hi mom." I said quietly, only earning a small nod in my direction. A few moments past, and by now she had her head in her hands, leaning her elbows on the table, her steaming mug in front of her. She slowly moved one of her hands in front of her, and grabbed her metal container that was next to her, pulling out a smoke and lighting it. She kept her head down and she took a long drag and slowly closed her eyes. Subconsciously, I wrinkled my nose from the sudden puff of smoke; I hope she didn't notice.

"How was work?" I asked, moving to sit in front of her. The smell of smoke bothered me, but I was willing to ignore it. I just desperately wanted her to talk to me.

She opened her eyes a bit and sighed. Staring at her cup she muttered in a raspy voice, "Work is work." I nodded, even though she wasn't looking at me. I was trying to figure out what to say but it was hard when she gives such short answers.

"W-what time did you get in?"

"What are you? A cop?" She snapped. I recoiled back in my seat. I didn't mean to upset her. I just wanna talk. "I dunno. Six, I think."

My eyes widened. "Six in the m-morning? That's l-late, mom." I was cut off by her eyes suddenly boring into mine, challenging me. "N-n-no, that's not wh-what I meant. I just m-m-meant you must be tired! Thats all..." I rushed to finish.

"Just wanted a fucking smoke."

I put my head down, looking at my lap. I absent mindedly played with the hole in my plaid PJ's. I didn't really know what to say. I get that she's tired, I just missed her. It was quiet, which I usually like but now it felt awkward. The only sounds were the faint chirping of birds outside, coffee being sipped and the inhaling of mom's smoke. It wasn't too long before she stood up shakily and stubbed her smoke out in the ashtray. With her hand on her back, she walked to the counter and poured herself a glass of whiskey. I felt my mouth go dry. _It's only twelve o'clock..._

"I'm going back to bed, she said wearily. "Edward?" I looked up, hopeful. "Could you go to the food bank?" My heart sank. I was hoping for something else. Like a conversation. I nodded, trying not to let my disappointment show. "Sure mom, I love you." She didn't say anything back, she just hobbled into her room and shut the door firmly.

I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding in. Why did life have to be so hard? I had to do something, I had to get my mind to a better place.I headed back to my room. It was almost one but I knew I didn't have to hurry. Mom didn't need the car for work. She never drove to work because she drinks, and thankfully hasn't ever driven drunk. Her coworker always took her. So I know I have to get food, and luckily I don't have to worry about being seen at the food bank; even if I was, by someone at school, I doubt they'd tease me if they're in the same boat.

I decided to get dressed. I chose a worn out yet comfy dark blue tshirt and my faded jeans, along with my typical heavy black jacket. I avoided the mirror at all costs, as normal. I hated the way I looked. At 5' 11, and 196 pounds, I really _am_ Butterball. I shook my head to clear these damn thoughts and made my way to the bathroom, to brush my teeth and try to fix my hair. It wasn't long before I gave up, and grabbed my mom's car keys, and made my way to her rusty, faded red 2002 Toyota Corolla.

Forks was pretty small, of course. There wasn't much to do. Basically, the only places were The Lodge, a Little Caesar's, a church, the bar, Olympic Outfitters (which, was owned by none other than Mike's parents..." a library, a coffee shop, and a small grocery store. I knew I had to go to the food bank, which is in the church, and I figured I'd stop at the grocery store to see what's on sale. I didn't have much money but I'm sure I could by some food without mom noticing, granted she's still in bed when I got home.

First, I made my way to the church, which was luckily on it's own road, making it not common to drive on it, which means less people to see me. _Or for it to be obvious where I'm going_. No, no. People go to church. I have an excuse. I sighed softly. The lot was surrounded by trees. It was well taken care of, and had bushes, plants, and a few flowers, obviously planted. It looked nice. The building itself is not big, like you'd imagine a church to be. It had the steeple, of course, but instead of being tall and thin, it was short and chunky. The church was off white- it was off-white, to begin with. It looked like a house. A very open home; with all the windows and lights.

I pulled in slowly, grimacing as I heard the tired squeak and the thump thump of God knows what in the back. All I know is it can't be good but I don't have the money to get it checked out. I was pleased to see only two other cars here. I always tried to never come on Sundays, the busiest day for churchgoers. I didn't like the crowd and I didn't want anyone to see me. To know. I got out of the old car, noting how my thighs rubbed together. I grit my teeth, annoyed. I walked in, trying to ignore the swish swish of my jeans, wondering if anyone else could hear it.

There were a few rooms here. First, when you walk in, an entrance/waiting area. To the left, was a bathroom and a play area for kids. To the right, the main room of worship, and behind that, seemingly tucked away, a small room, which was where the food and donations went. I sighed softly, and kept my eyes down as I walked along the burnt yellow tile.

 _I bet everyone knows why I'm here, just by looking at my ratty shoes._

I entered the main room, please to see only three people here, all elderly women. They were busy setting up for the next session, to even look up, for which I was grateful. I scurried past, but slowed down when I felt my stomach jiggle. How can I _always_ be so uncomfortable? I bit the inside of my cheek. I just felt embarassed all the time. I felt embarassed for being seen, even. I was a bit mad at myself, because I had a good morning, and I ruined it. I always do, my Goddamn thoughts get the best of me. I ran my hands through my hair as I reached the back wall, and the door to the food bank. I reached out, turning the faded brass handle before opening the door. With one last glance behind me, I slipped in.

At the back of the room, there was a little white table that was in front of a man. He was sitting, reading a bible. He looked up when he heard the door. He gave me a warm smile. "Ah, hello Edward! How are you?" I found myself actually smiling back. "Hey Sam, I'm okay, h-how are you? A-and Em-Emily?"

Sam and Emily volunteer at the church. Sam does the food bank and Emily surpervises the kids. Great couple. Sam and Emily were from the rez, so it wasn't too shocking Sam had a few tribal tattoos. He was big, too, but not like me. He looked strong. But, looks can be decieving clearly. We made small talk for a while, before he passed me two white plastic bags. The rules were simple; two bags per family, twice a week. It was more than enough, and I wasn't greedy. I mostly took what I _knew_ we couldn't afford, at all. I gave Sam a soft smile in thanks, before scanning the few shelves.

Everything here was donated so you never knew what would be here. It used to be kind of fun, when I'd go with my mom. But, I was too young to understand. Now, it's just sad. Again, I wasn't greedy. I grabbed a couple cans of soup, some pasta and sauce, canned tuna and ham, some canned fruit and vegetables, and cheese slices, before looking at the shelf behind me, blushing as I grabbed a tin of No Name hot chocolate. I said my thanks quickly, wanting to leave. I felt embarassed, maybe I took too much? Each bag was less than half full, but still. I felt bad, but I usually did, I guess.

I got home around six. After the church, I stopped by the grocery store, then the library, to read few magazines and pick up a couple books. It was kind of odd, going there when it wasn't my shift. But, I always loved the library, regardless.

I entered my house quietly. I really didn't want mom to see I bought food, with my money. Thankfully, she wasn't in the kitchen. I sighed in relief. I felt tired, and really fucking hungry. I knew I had to put away the food first though. First, the items from the food bank, then what I bought. I got two packages of the powdered cookie dough you just add water to. Even though each package only makes six, they were on sale for a dollar. I got two frozen pizzas, a loaf of white bread, small bag of potatoes, some hamburger, and some snacks from the sale bin. It only came to 28.13$, so I was happy. After putting everything away, I grabbed my snacks and ran past my moms room, not wanting her to see. I felt shame as I put my junk food under my bed, as quietly as possible. I got back into my pyjamas, before going to see what mom wanted for supper, and to show her what I got. But, she wasn't even here. She must have went to work. I sighed softly, as I decided I'd just cook for me. A while later, I was sat in front of the old boxy TV with a plate of pizza and frozen hashbrowns. I made sure to leave leftovers for mom.

I didn't really feel like watching TV. Honestly, I sat there for a second, wondering if it'd even turn on. It's been two weeks since the incident with Mike and them, but I found myself worring about the electricity more. Of course, it has since been paid. Thankfully. It was too early to go to bed, so I half heartedly watched _Ghost Whisperer._ Of course, my inquisitive mind had to know how it ends. After, I gathered my plate and brought it into the kitchen, noting moms mug and plate still on the table, along with more in the sink. I knew I'd do them tomorrow, I was too tired now. I rinsed my plate, trying to get the pizza sauce off so I wouldn't have to scrub tomorrow. As I stepped away from the sink, I looked around. With the morning glow gone from today, I could see my kitchen much clearer. The paint chipping, the stains, the floor coming up... The harshness of the night was ll too evident as I stook there, the smell of stake smoke just about choking me. I shivered slightly, as I made my way back into my room, closing the door softly behind me, feeling the weight of life on my shoulders as I sank on my bed. I wanted nothing more than to drink soundly and quickly to sleep.

 **A/N- Hello! Sorry I didn't get a chance to do an A/N on chapter one, I forgot lol! So, I of course, don't own Twilight. I only own this idea. Thank you to anyone who reads this, it means a lot. And reviews? LOVE THEM! Thanks a bunch 3 I'm a single stay at home mom so the only time I write is when my baby naps/sleeps... BUT since we cosleep, I write in a book first, then type, so they keys on my laptop won't wake him up:)**

 **Again, thank you. I'll try to get 1-2 chapters up a week. Also, my first story WON'T be finished. I'll have to restart it. I've been working on my writing and it doesn't feel up to par- and I got writers block a while ago, and can't remember the direction it was headed.**


	3. Chapter 3

Sundays were okay, I guess. No, not as fun as Saturdays... I guess, carefree should be the word. "Fun" was overstepping it. Sundays often meant cleaning, running errends, and of course, panicking about Monday and what would come. Mondays were the worst day, in my opinion. People were more bitter at the loss of the weekend plus the start of school again, which usually meant they wanted to take it out on someone. It meant I couldn't sit and enjoy my coffee for long, it meant I had to be around many people at school. So I guess, Sundays are cool.

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the chill in the air. What the hell? It's mid October, but it felt like January. I shivered, bringing my blanket up around my neck. I layed there for a couple minutes, wondering if this was the weather for the next few months or if it's a freak cold day. Forks is cold, yes. But it's _not_ winter year round.

When I finally got the courage to get up, I looked out my winder and seen all the frost on the glass and the sill. However, that's not what made me roll my eyes and groan. Nope. That would have been because of the thin layer of snow on the ground.

Snow. In October.

Now, I didn't mind the snow at all. But it was a little early and a little disheartening that this Autumn seems to be done. What a shame.

I sighed softly, rubbing my hands over my face and scowling at the scruff. I don't exactly take care of my physical appearance -obviously- but I always appreciated a cleanly shaven face. I felt gross, not just because I haven't shaved but because I didn't shower the last few days. Hot water costed money, so I didn't have the luxury of a shower every day. But, since I had work later, and school tomorrow, I was glad I had that excuse to shower today.

I really didn't wanna be called _Stinker_ tomorrow.

I felt my stomach grumble and even though I was alone in my room, I felt myself blush. I'd be lying if I said food wasn't the one thing I look forward to every day. I decided to eat first, so I went to the kitchen. On my way, mom's door was closed so that usually meant she was in there and sleeping. I knew better than to disturb her. The first thing I did was make a coffee, and while that was cooling down, I started on breakfast. I got out a pan, and started frying three eggs. I got the toaster, and toasted 4 slices of white bread and finally got the cheese slices- I was having egg and cheese sandwiches for breakfast and I was so excited. I sat at the table, with my plate and mug, and enjoyed the quiet for a while, trying to calm my always anxious mind.

I sat at the fuzzy TV for a while with my coffee, not really paying attention to the weather network. Honestly, I wanted a shower right now but I didn't know what mom would say. It was fucked, I felt guilt for taking a damn shower? _You need one_ , I told myself.

 _Please don't say anything. Please don't say anything._

I made my way into the bathroom, turned away from the mirror, got undressed, and after a few moments stepped into the small shower, scowling at the poor water pressure. However, as the hot water finally reached my back, I couldn't help but smile, just a bit. Afterall, it _was_ a shower.

I worked at the library. It was near the coffee shop, which had a nice aesthetic to it. It wasn't busy much. I liked the work, and I loved the books, the people were okay too. The hours... not too good, but I'm lucky to even have a job in Forks. Not many places means not much work for the teenagers- their parents already had the jobs. I usually got three four-hour shifts a week. Not the worst, but when you're poor and trying to save for a car and college, and help? Yeah. It's bad.

Today, my shift was 2pm until 6pm, which was one of my least favorites. Although it's usually not busy, the closing shift has even less people, which I, of course, prefer.

I didn't have much to do until my shift, so I arrived early, at about 1, secretly hoping to start early. Even though I was dressed warmly, I could feel my old shoes get damp in the inch of wet snow, which was incredibly displeasing as my socks got wet. I sighed softly, and made my way into the library, wanting to rush but not wanting anyone to see a fat boy run. I was so happy to be in the warm building, even though the air was always dry. I smiled a little as the scent of old books wafted to my nose. That was one of my favorite things. I walked into the small employee room, and greeted my manager, who was sitting at the desk. Mr. Verner was a nice old man, I could always manage small talk with him.

"Hey, Edward," he smiled. I gave a soft smile back, feeling calm of the quiet room. I took a seat, and pulled a book off the shelf, no idea what it was. It was funny, an employee must have left it there, it's our job to put books away. Ironic.

Thankfully it wasn't too long before I could start my shift. I was a bit disappointed Mr. Verner didn't ask me to start early but then again, schedules meant order and I appreciated that. I walked into the main room, my eyes darting around and only spotting a handful of people, all not paying me any attention. I grabbed the trolley and made my way to the back of the library, and started my tedious job of putting books back where they belong and checking the label. Tedious, but right for me.

 **A/N- A short filler chapter, but done on purpose. I wanted this little part of his life known. The next chapter can't really fit this is, so, my apologies. I hope you liked it, thank you for reading, favoriting, following and reviewing!**


	4. Chapter 4

There wasn't much to do in Forks, as I've stated before. The young people here didn't have a mall to stereotypically hang out at, we didn't have a movie theater, or any other sort of contained place to hang out at, really. That's why, sometimes, the teenagers here get into trouble, I guess. Apart from the few malicious people, it was harmless mischief. But, even the good kids, participate in Mischief Week. See, Halloween was fun, of course it was. But once you hit a certain age, adults give you weird looks if you trick or treat, or even slam the door in your face. I suppose that's why they came up with something else to do on Halloween. But one day wasn't enough, they had to make it a week or so. I didn't believe in it, really. Sure, harmless pranks can be fun, but again, some people were just downright mean. It can get out of hand. Mischief Week started on October 20th, which is why when I woke up that day, I did not want to get out of bed.

My first class was Spanish, which, was pretty terrible first thing in the morning. It's almost as bad as having math first thing. The class went as usual, nothing really happening much except getting called a perdedor by some stoned looking guy and a mini pop quiz.

Finally, after governemnt and trig, it was lunch. Again, it was embarassing to love food so much but I was excited all day, if I'm going to be truthful. I made my way down to the library, never eating in ghe cafeteria and trying to ignore the stares, smirks and outright laughs as I walked by. I was so uncomfortable... what was this all about? I blushed as I kept my head down, trying to will them away with my mind.

Finally, I walked into the library and went over to the seat in the back, before looking around and sighing in relief as I discovered the room was empty. I placed my two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the table and ate my lunch in peace, reading an old magazine from 2004. laughing at the quizzes.

I never ate in the cafeteria. I didn't see the point- I didn't have anyone to sit with. There's a few people here who are kind to me, like Angela, who is really shy and polite, and Ben, who, in my opinion, follows her around like a puppy dog and doesn't have time to even notice me really. They'll say hi once in a while, mostly Angela. But I wouldn't consider them my friend. More like... almost acquaintances.

Plus, not only was the food way too expensive for an every day thing. Even though I could get it once in a while, and I did want to, I hated eating in front of people. And leaving after I bought food would draw too much attention. Mrs. Walsh was the librarian, and always let me eat there, so I could be alone. I appreciated that, she doesn't let many students do that everyday but she knows I clean up. I'm sure she knows why I prefer it.

Mrs. Walsh was a kind middle aged woman with deep set eyes and a warm smile, with faint lines around her mouth. She looked like a loving mother, honestly. I liked her a lot, she was very genuine.

Since not many people came in at lunch, except for a few people doing homework or desperately trying to finish an assignment on time, when I heard someone in the aisle next to me I was a tad bit confused, as I knew that aisle had law books; no one read law. And when I heard people laughing, I grew aggravated. I was left alone here, this was my safe spot.

"... GO!" I heard, and I looked up just in time to see a bucket being poured over the side, directly on me. My chair was pushed in, so I couldn't get out fast enough, and before I knew it, the contents were spilling over me; wet toilet paper. I could feel the sticky paper stick to me and start to break down, making my skin feel gritty and just wrong. I gasped, and hurriedly pushed my chair out and stood up, unfortunately slipping on the water in the process and falling right on my butt. I closed my eyes as I heard the booming laughter of a group of teenagers.

"MISCHIEF WEEK FOR THE WIN! You got hit, fuckin' loser!" Mike called.

After I heard them run away, of course laughing the whole way, I tried to think of what to do. I was soaked, and covered in the paper. I couldn't just walk out into the lobby, there's no way. I stood there, dripping in the cold water yet somehow feeling like I was on fire. Shame and embarassment burned me as I wondered what the hell to do. I slowly sank on the floor, hearing giggles and whispers from a few aisles down... just knowing it was all about me. My eyes squeezed shut after I felt the first few traitor tears spill.

I just wish I was never born.

I sat there for a few minutes, my head hidden by my hands, waiting for an idea to come to me. If I went into the lobby, even more people would see. If I waited, Mike and them might come back. I just didn't know. It wasn't too long before I heard heels clicking in a hurry, seemingly towards me. "Where is he? What did you do? What happened?" I heard Ms. Walsh snap. All I could hear in response was muffled "I don't know!" Followed by feet shuffling away.

I sank even further to the ground, hoping I would somehow fall through. I did not want anyone, even sweet Mrs. Walsh, to see me. I blew out a breath when I heard her steps speed up, and when she stumbled a bit I realized she really was in a hurry to find me. It was... nice. That she cared. Her steps stopped and I internally groaned; when I opened my eyes, I saw her staring at me with wide eyes and a horrified look on her thin mouth and my fears that she found me came true. She took a cautious step towards me and tried to compose herself. Her lips softened into a shaky smile.

"Edward? Are you okay?" She whispered.

I could do nothing but look at her. I mean, she meant well, but am I okay? Um, no.

"Who did this?" She tried again. I looked away from her. No way in fucking hell was I gonna say anything. I didn't need to give Mike another reason to hate me and target me. No way would I be a snitch or anything. No.

"Honey, I need to know. I think I know, but you need to confirm it... I didn't see it happen so unless you tell me, there can't be consequences. And there needs to be." I knew she was right. But again, I stayed quiet. She sighed softly. "Okay. I won't force you. We'll stay here until the bell, okay?"

She sat down in front of me, and kept peeking at me. When another tear slipped out, I wiped it away angrily. I didn't want anyone to see me cry. She looked down. "I can help you, Edward. Just let me."

"I d-don't know who i-it was." I lied, my voice cracking. Thankfully, for the time being, she let it go. We stayed there until the bell, as she promised. When the bell went, she took out her iPhone and started typing away. A few moments later she looked at me. "Okay, the halls are clear. Lets go."

I stood up shakily, and winced when I felt the cold water drip down my soaking body and onto the floor. "I-I'm sorr-y about... the w-w-water."

"It's not your fault. It's okay." She said softly. Together, we made our way our of the library, my old tattered shoes squeaking the whole way. When we got to the door, I looked around for people in the lobby, afraid someone would see... but no one was there, just as she promised. She must have texted another teacher to clear the halls. Everyone would know why.

Wordlessly, we slipped into the office, which was empty other than the receptionist and the principal standing a few feet from the door, clearly waiting for us.

"Edward? I called your mother. I won't push you for answers- right now. It's been a hard day, apparently... just go home and relax okay? I hope you'll talk to us tomorrow... we have no tolerance for the people who did this. Mischief week or not."

They called my mom? She is gonna be so mad. I barely heard what else he said, I was just so focused on my mom. She has to leave work to come get me. She was gonna see how weak her son was. I was gonna ruin her car.

I felt nothing short of petrified.

 _ **A/N: um hello! Long time no post. I got caught up in real life, phone games and ready fanfic instead of writing it, thanks writers block! I'm back now tho! Ideas galore :)**_


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